Miracle
by noplacelikehope
Summary: Usually Dean would have easily been able to beat up or at least outrun this man, but in his weakened state Dean could do nothing but watch as the man shoved the knife deep into Dean's spleen.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I don't own supernatural, I just own the plot of this story!

**Author's Note: **Thanks for reading! Reviews are much appreciated and always loved!

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><p>Sam walked into the motel room, happily totting a bag full of books. His smile was wide and his eyes were shining with joy as he pulled out a thick green book and plopped down in a chair to begin reading. Dean was following behind Sam; his eyes were filled with anxiety and worry, knowing exactly what was to come next. He and Sam had disobeyed their father's orders and left the motel. His father had gotten back early from his hunt and Dean was sure, the second he saw the impala in the parking lot, that he was in big trouble.<p>

"Boys?" A quiet, yet commanding voice, clearly belonging to their father, called.

Dean gulped as he saw his father step from the dark shadows of the motel room and out into the light created by the open door.

"Hey dad," Sam muttered, barely glancing at their father so he could eagerly continue reading his new book.

Dean could tell his dad was fuming.

"Where have you been?" John asked, his eyes boring into Dean's features, making the child feel slightly uncomfortable.

Swallowing nervously, Dean responded, "We went to the library, sir."

John turned to Sam, and, with as much kindness as he could muster, sent him to his room. As soon as Sammy disappeared john ordered Dean outside.

"Do you know what kind of danger you put Sammy in, today?" John shouted at Dean the second the door closed.

"Yes sir," Dean grumbled staring down at his shoes.

John raised his hand and sharply slapped Dean across the face. "Look at me when I talk to you," He barked.

Dean's eyes immediately snapped up towards his father's face.

"You have one job in this family, Dean," His father shouted. "Keep Sammy safe! And you failed at it," John spat.

It was silent for a moment until John spoke once more. "Start running," he finally ordered, "I can't even look at you right now. Your mother would be so disappointed."

The words stung and for the first time in years tears brimmed at the corner of Dean's eyes and threatened to leak out. As he began to run in the direction his father had pointed him in he thought about his mother. '_I bet she hates me,' _Dean thought, feeling more rejected then he ever had before. '_I am a failure and no mother wants a failure for a son.' _

While Dean ran he began to feel weak. His stomach growled loudly underneath his ratty ACDC t-shirt. He hadn't eaten very much for the past few days because there hadn't been enough money to feed two growing boys and Dean was always willing to sacrifice his food for Sam.

Suddenly Dean lurched forward. His breath became shallow and his heart beat unevenly. Collapsing, he closed his eyes, trying to get his breath back. He crouched on the cement for what seemed to be only a few minutes, but soon the blue sky turned orange and he still couldn't muster up enough energy to stand.

As darkness finally crept into the sky, Dean was able to stand. Slowly and carefully he started the long walk back to the motel.

On his journey back, Dean stopped at a gas station to sit and catch his breath. While he sat there, breathing heavily and sweating profusely, a fat, bald truck driver approached him.

"You got any money on you?" The truck driver asked, revealing a heavy southern accent.

"No, sorry," Dean mumbled, standing up, trying to walk away from the man.

But the truck driver blocked his exit using his oversized form. "Well, then" The older man slurred, "I can give you some, but you gotta do something for me first."

"No thanks," Dean protested as the man leaned in towards him, lips puckered up for a kiss.

Dean resisted this advance even more, causing the truck driver to slam Dean up against the wall of the gas station. With his stinky breath filling Dean's nostrils, he said, "You'll do what I say, bitch."

Dean tried again to free himself, but that only made the man angrier. "What? Am I not pretty enough for you?" He joked.

"You're disgusting," Dean responded without thinking.

"What did you say?" The man asked, pressing a sharpened knife into Dean's throat.

"N-nothing sir," Dean stuttered, immediately regretting his statement.

Usually Dean would have easily been able to beat up or at least outrun this man, but in his weakened state Dean could do nothing but watch as the man shoved the knife deep into Dean's spleen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **I don't own supernatural, I just own the plot of this story.

**Authors Note: **Thanks for reading! Reviews are always loved!

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><p><em>Usually Dean would have easily been able to beat up or at least outrun this man, but in his weakened state Dean could do nothing but watch as the man shoved the knife deep into Dean's spleen.<em>

That'll teach you to treat people with respect," The man grunted as he walked off towards his truck, dropping the knife on the ground and taking a swig from a flask he produced from his pocket.

Blood pouring out of him, Dean started limping towards the motel, only a few blocks away. His head reeled with the radiating pain in his side and he struggled to breathe. When he finally made it back, Dean was about to knock on the door and plead for help, when he remembered what his father had said to him earlier that day_. 'I'm worthless_,' Dean told himself. '_Why would anybody care if I died?_' With that thought in mind, Dean turned away from the door and with a futile attempt at dignity, stumbled onto a patch of grass a few yards away. By now the blood had thoroughly soaked Dean's shirt and Dean knew he was going to die.

"Dean!" A panicked voice called from somewhere in the distance.

_'Sam,' _Dean thought, suddenly remembering the one person that would come looking for him.

"Dean!" The voice called again, this time rushing towards him. "Sammy, call 9-1-1!" The voice commanded, as he knelt next to Dean, attempting to stop the flow of blood.

By the time the ambulance had arrived, Dean had already slipped into unconsciousness. The next time he woke up he was in a hospital bed with a multitude of tubes sticking out of him from various places along his body. His father was asleep on an uncomfortable looking chair located to the right side of him. Most of his body was numb from the vast amount of pain medication pumped into his blood stream and he felt extremely tired.

He was about to go back to sleep when he noticed his father stir and awake.

"Dean," John said, his voice rough with anxiety as he rushed over to his elder son. "I am so glad you're okay," He whispered, running a hand through Dean's hair.

Struggling to find his voice, Dean croaked, "But I thought you hated me?"

John looked pained. "Son," He said, grabbing Dean's hand and squeezing it tightly, "I know I am not the best father, but I love you more than anything else in this world."

Dean blushed. His father and him had never been very "lovey-dovey" like this before.

"Where's Sammy?" Dean asked.

Upon hearing his son's words, a smile crept onto John's lips. "Dean," He began. "A miracle has happened."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **Thanks for reading! Reviews are always loved! Sorry for taking so long to update! I shall try to be much quicker next time! :)

**Disclaimer: **I (unfortunately) don't own supernatural!

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><p>Dean sat up anxiously in the hospital bed. '<em>Nothing good ever happens to our family<em>,' Dean's mind shouted. '_What the hell does he mean?_'

"Whoa, careful Dean," His father soothed, running a soft hand through Dean's tousled blonde hair. "Everything is fine. There is no need to panic."

As Dean relaxed, he slowly started to drift off again, before a startling thought urged him awake. "Where's Sammy?" He asked for a second time, his voice again filling with panic.

An exorbitantsmile spread across John's face at the thought of Sam's whereabouts and before he could explain anything to Dean, an excited Sam burst through the hospital room door, totting along with him a tall blonde woman.

Dean's eye snapped up to the face of the mysterious woman and when he saw who it was his mouth dropped open.

"Dean!" Sam squealed, dropping the woman's hand and running up to his injured, older brother.

Dean didn't respond. He just couldn't believe what he was seeing. '_Mom? It couldn't be! She died when I was four, it was absolutely impossible for her to be alive no!' _

"Hey! Dean!" Sam yelled, waving his hand in front his brother's face, obviously trying to get his attention.

Slowly, Dean pulled his eyes away from the unbelievable sight and turned to face his irritated younger brother.

"Hey Sammy," Dean whispered, leaning down to kiss Sam's messy mop of brown hair.

Sam pulled Dean in for a tight hug. "I'm glad you're okay." He murmured, quiet enough so that only Dean could hear.

"I won't ever leave you," Dean responded quietly, not wanting anybody else to hear either.

As the brother's reunited, Mary, who had been standing awkwardly in the corner of the room, not wanting to intrude upon her two sons, made her way over to the side of Dean's bed. Dean pulled himself from his brother's arms and hesitantly, his eyes met the woman he had dreamed about everyday for the past eight years.

"Mom?" Dean asked, wanting to be absolutely positive that she was really back.

"Hey sweetheart," His mother said, resting her hand in his hair, as she stared down at her son's face with a look of pure love and adoration. It was a look that Dean remembered from the early years of his childhood, and it was a beautiful gaze that he never dreamed he would be able to see again.

With shaking hands Dean sat up a pulled his mom into a rib-crunching hug.

"My, my," She observed, "You have gotten much bigger, since I last saw you."

Dean smiled and large, wet tears began to flow from his eyes. "I missed you." He breathed.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Thanks everyone for reading! Please review if you have time!

**Disclaimer: **I don't own supernatural!

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><p>Two weeks later, Dean was declared well enough to leave the hospital and the family headed back to their home in Lawrence, Kansas. It was the first time in eight, long years that Dean had been in that house and when he entered happy, childhood memories overwhelmed him. He remembered his mom tucking him into bed at night. He remembered having family dinners around their tiny dining room table. He remembered decorating pumpkins for Halloween and spilling Easter egg dye all over his father's pants.<p>

As these thoughts streamed into his mind he reached over and gently took his mother's hand. She glanced down at her son and smiled, also remembering their happy life together. She squeezed his hand tightly and led him into the kitchen. He sat down at the table while his mother began preparing dinner. Sam and John were at the grocery store, so it was only Dean and his mother home.

Dean sat in silence for a while, just watching his mother hurriedly scoot around the kitchen until an urgent question formed at his lips, "Mom," He began, "Are we still going to keep hunting, now that you're back."

Mary turned and faced her son, "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"You know, hunting," Dean said again, "Killing monsters, saving people."

Mary's eyes widened, staring at her son in disbelief, "Your father took you hunting?"

Growing up as a hunter, Mary knew the risks of the job and she was absolutely furious that her husband put her sons in such danger.

When Dean didn't answer, Mary asked him again, "Dean, did you father every take you and Sammy hunting?"

Sensing his mother's anger, Dean gulped, "Yes," He responded.

Mary was apoplectic. Storming out of the kitchen she grabbed the phone and dialed John's cell phone number. Dean could hear his mother yelling, so he quickly went up to his room and curled up onto his bed. He wished he hadn't said anything. It seemed as if he would never get the family he had wished for.


End file.
